[Rhodes22-list] What I Did On My Summer Vacation

[Steve Alm]

Hi everybody.  Here's my Brazil story and I'm stickin' to it.  There's
nothing about sailing here or anything at all pertaining to R22's, so many
of you may wish to delete.  Pictures to follow in a different post from
Shutterfly.

If there¹s one word in Portuguese that I¹m certain of, it¹s the word
chuva--rain.  This word came up in almost every conversation.  Here are some
more:  Sempre chuvendo--always raining;  and me da uma guarda chuva--give me
an umbrella.  With just these few words, one can have a nearly complete
conversation with any Brazilian.   This is the rainy season but even the
locals couldn¹t remember this much chuva.  It was truly biblical in
proportion.  

Our trip first brought us to São Paulo where we were met by our friend
Jairo, who drove us around a lovely, upscale area of the city known as
Jardins--Gardens, where we had almoço--lunch,  then took us to his family¹s
ranch outside the city of Sorocaba,  about an hour west of São Paulo.  We
stayed there a few days with him, his wife, Silvia and their 6 month old
baby Tomaz.  Actually there was no chuva those first few days, but it was
quite cold at night being that far south.  It¹s winter there, ya know.  The
ranch was wonderfully peaceful and a great way to relax after the long,
grueling flights from Minneapolis.  Horses, sheep, dogs, geese and bazaar
chickens from Angola.  There were four houses, two for the family and two
for employees, and two huge facilities for guests and parties.  They threw
us a barbecue one night with a bunch of friends that was a real treat.
Instead of cooking the meat and then everyone sitting down to eat, they
throw everything on the gigantic grill--sausages, ribs, huge hunks of
beef--and everyone loiters around the grill and nibbles on bite-size pieces
as they come off.  The big pieces of beef get turned until the outside is
done, then they trim off a little, serve it and then put the rest back on
the grill.  This may go on for a couple hours with potato salad, veggies,
corn, etc. on the side.  Oh, and did I mention the cachaça?  This is the
trademark Brazilian liquor made usually of sugar cane.  Mais cana, por
favor.  More cane, please, I added to my vocabulary right away.

We visited the site of their almost-finished new home a few miles from the
ranch.  I was fascinated by the construction process.  Walls are not ³framed
up² like we do here.  They use reinforced concrete posts and beams filled in
with red brick.  Then the whole wall is cemented over for the finish.  After
the wall is done, they take big masonry saws and cut slots for the plumbing
and electrical, lay in the pipes and wires and cement over the slots.  The
floors are all reinforced concrete and the only wood in the whole house are
the windows and doors and maybe cabinets.  I doubt they carry any fire
insurance.

Next we flew to Recife in the northeastern state of Pernambuco.  Mary Ann
lived there for four years back in the eighties and has maintained contact
with many friends.  Here¹s where we get the chuva.  Nine days in a row
sempre chuvendo.  We spent our first night in a rather crummy motel room but
it was just a block from the beach, but then we didn¹t go to the beach
because estava chuvendo--it was raining.  So the next day we moved in with
our friends Patricia and Jucá and their three wonderful sons, Hugo, Bruno
and Ivan.  

We had been toying with the idea of buying a small beach front apartment in
Recife as both an investment and a place to stay when we visit, so we spent
a few days looking at real estate.  After some looking and research, we
decided not to pursue this for several reasons.  The prices have recently
shot up, the crime--and in particular, violent crime--has shot up, and the
waters have recently become infested with a particularly aggressive species
of tuberão--shark.  A number of years ago, they built a new port for larger
ships south of Recife and in doing so, destroyed a huge shark habitat.  The
sharks had to move, and they moved to Recife.  They have this big, beautiful
beach named Boa Viagem  that¹s absolutely gorgeous, but even on a sunny,
crowded Sunday, nobody¹s in the water.  Que droga--what a drag!

We spent several days with our friends Marcelo and Angela who live on the
outskirts of Recife in a very lovely and secluded jungle home.  He¹s an
acupuncturist and she¹s a ceramic artist.  They live across the garden from
her parents, Annalise and Luigi, and are visited nearly every day by
children, grandchildren and Uncle Mario.  We drove with them to their
sitio--hobby farm a couple hours inland, outside the very cute little town
of Gravatá.  There, we celebrated the festival of São João, which is mostly
about eating corn.  Corn cous cous, corn pudding, various corn breads,
roasted corn on the bon fire, oh, and did I mention the cachaça?  Mais cana,
por favor.

After returning to our base camp at Patricia and Jucá¹s for a couple days,
we ventured two hours south by bus to the sleepy little beach town of
Maracaipe.  There, we checked into a pausada--like a motel resort, only
small, quaint and funky.  Our second floor balcony overlooked the beach at
the Pausada dos Cocairos--Motel of the Coconut grove.  In the five days we
were there, we actually had a few days sem chuva-- without rain.  It was
basically your average, typical, run-of-the-mill, garden variety, absolutely
drop-dead-gorgeous tropical beach.  And no tuberoês, so we swam to our
heart¹s content.  It was about a two mile walk down the beach to the next
little beach town of Porto de Galinhas and celebrated the festival of São
Pedro.  By the way, São  is Saint, and they¹re always celebrating one saint
or another.  Mais cana, por favor.

Recife has a sister city called Olinda, which is mandated to be preserved in
its old-world style.  Some of the streets are 500 years old and even predate
paralelapipado-- cobblestone, and are paved with rocks.  The buildings are
all painted pastel pinks, greens and yellows, and there are many shops,
restaurants, and art galleries as well as homes.  We found the house Mary
Ann lived in when she was there.  We liked Olinda so much that we checked
into the Pausada dos Quatro Cantos--  Motel of the Four Corners.  The Quatro
Cantos is a well-known intersection that is one of the centers of activity
during Brazil¹s famous Carnaval.  Four huge marching bands all parade
towards Quatro Cantos from different directions and bash into each other at
the same time, all trying to play louder and outdo the others.  Mais cana,
por favor.  

By now, we¹re about three weeks into the trip when we headed for the
interior to visit our friend Claudia¹s  limestone quarry.  It was a one and
a half hour plane ride to the city of Juazeiro do Norte and a taxi to the
next little town of Crato, in the state of Ceará.  We checked into the
lovely Hotel Pasárgada with our second floor balcony overlooking the pool
and a splendid view of the valley below.  We spent a day touring the area
which included a visit to the shrine of Padre Cicero, a priest from the 19th
century whose story is filled with mystery, miracles, politics, intervention
by the Pope and even a bloody massacre to boot.

Then we went to a ranger station/visitor center in the state forest.  There,
we met Sr. Mundó, the famous naturalist.  He knows every plant in the forest
and specializes in their medicinal uses.  He¹s an extraordinary man who is
consulted and sited in nearly every scientific study on the subject.  He
sent me up in his observation tower to view and take pictures of the forest
canopy.  Mary Ann even went up the tower and she¹s afraid of heights--I was
amazed and very proud of her.

That night we went to a bar in Crato to hear a band perform, and they were
excellent.  But near the end of the night, Mary Ann got on stage and sang a
few songs that lit the room on fire!  She became an instant star in Crato
and the next day people were pointing and smiling and waving her over to
talk.

The next day Claudia arrived with two other Americans, Rodney and Ira, who
were considering doing business with her and her limestone, and we spent the
next days visiting her quarry, a neighboring quarry and the polishing
factory in the town of Novo Olinda.

What can one say about a limestone quarry?  It was stoney and quarryish.
But really quite interesting, primitive and unique.  In that area there were
farms and ranches and houses made of waddle--woven sticks with troweled-in
mud and straw mix.  And then there¹d be a satellite dish up on the roof.

We visited the little town of Santana, where they have a paleontology museum
filled with fossils of prehistoric fish, plants, insects and chickens with
teeth.  Then back to Novo Olinda and a stop at Casa Grande, a
Unicef-sponsored school run by the students.  Their emphasis is on education
through arts and communication, complete with their own radio station, TV
studio, extensive music program and dormitories.  The jazz band put on an
impromptu performance for us and they were excellent young players and
singers!  Mary Ann was moved to tears.

Being back in Recife for the last few days of the trip was a whirlwind of
visits with more old friends.  Nilton and Talis, who played in Mary Ann¹s
band, Mandala, when she lived there;  Jorge, the intellectual book dealer;
a cocktail party for would-be limestone buyers;  a visit to the Francisco
Brennand ceramic museum  http://www.brennand.com.br/english/index.html  and
more visits with Marcelo and Angela.

During all this, Brazil was in the process of winning the Copa America
futebol tournament.  They beat rival Argentina for the championship in a
dramatic shootout in the final seconds that probably sent most Brazilians
close to cardiac arrest.  I have to say there are soccer players and then
there are Brazilians.  They play a beautiful game!

Brazil is a wondrous, enchanting and wretched place--all at the same time.
The beauty is endless and the poverty and hardships are overwhelming.
Recife has been described as a ³gritty port city² and nothing could be more
accurate.  The general logistics of life there is often difficult and even
maddening.  The traffic is terrible and the crime is horrendous.  But above
it all, Brazilians themselves are very nationalistic and love all things
Brazilian.  It¹s not very Americanized and is still a raw and organic,
distinctly South American culture.

Last, I want to mention that our trip back home consisted of six airports,
three jets, one canceled flight, one missed flight, one delayed flight, five
bus shuttles, two trains, two hotels, and two taxi rides.  We were in
transit for 56 hours, but who¹s counting?  We were pretty glad to get home!
Mais cana, por favor.

Be on the lookout for another e-mail from my shutterfly site where you can
peruse all the photos.  I took hundreds of shots with my new Sony camera but
I managed to whittle it down to 126.

Slim